“Joy Chevern and Rodney Bauman. Their names have been and still are a staple of TV news, talk shows, blogs, and the information networks of both the left and right wings. Writers of made-for-TV movies and PhD theses have all tried to lock down their motives. The only conclusion would-be scholars and Hollywood’s dregs can agree on is that Rodney and Joy have …read more

“Funded by the European Union, among others, the festival’s goal is to promote new talent and encourage cartooning in Palestine. An exhibition in Bethlehem’s Manger Square by participating cartoon artists will include work by Baha Boukhari, a political cartoonist for Ramallah-based Al Ayyam newspaper, architect and cartoonist Samir Harb, and Yara Bamieh, an architect, graphic designer and illustrator. French cartoonist Maximilien Le Roy, who in 2009 published a graphic novel about Gaza, and a year later a book about the wall in the West Bank, will conduct a beginner workshop in the Aida Refugee Camp on Saturday. Journalist and comic script -writer Albert Drandov will give a talk about his work and experience on the closing day this Sunday.”The First Palestine Comics Festival Opens

“Will more publishers follow in McSweeney’s path? According to Jonathan Kirsch, a Los Angeles based publishing and IP attorney and adjunct professor at NYU’s Professional Publishing Institute, the shift from profit to non-profits is ‘the coming thing in publishing. It’s going to be increasingly common for certain kinds of publishing houses where something is at stake beyond making money.’ He added that, giving the ongoing financial problems facing the book industry, shifting over to a nonprofit model ‘allows more publishers to continue to publish books because they are not relying on profits from the marketplace.'”McSweeney’s New Business Model: Nonprofit

When Sam was a young boy, he used to play in his grandparents’ pool for hours. Because he was an only child, he had little to do but act out situations, and pretending to drown was his favorite. He would sink to the bottom of the large concrete rectangle, cross his legs Indian style, and push his arms upward to keep himself steady on the ground. As his breath began to run out he would look up at the white pinprick of sun in the distance, the rays making their way through the chlorinated liquid like refracted rainbows on oil patches, and wait until the very last second, when his whole body screamed for air and the panic forced him up up up towards the sky. Reborn, gasping for air, he floated like a baby on the surface of the lapping waves and let the sun warm his chilled skin.

The wedding party is the last to head to the reception, since the photographer insists on taking pictures on every level of the Italian gardens where Sam and Greta said their vows. She snaps shots every two seconds as Sam gives his new wife a hand up the tall bus stairs, though Greta’s face shows only her frustration at heaving her immense chiffon train everywhere, and Sam’s face is already sore from his forced smiles. They are happy of course, but like all brides and grooms, they will be happier still when the stress of this day is over and they can relax with a bottle of champagne in their hotel suite and remind themselves why they went through a year of torturous planning in the first place.

The bus, at least a decade old, contains two stripper poles, one on their end; neon waves of pink and green lights over the windows; glass goblets hung on metal hooks over the bar; blue velvet seats with 80’s style box prints polka-dotted over them; and smells of pine air freshener and age. The bus has made several trips back and forth between the reception hall / parking lot and the Italian gardens where Sam and Greta married, and after five trips, all of their guests have been safely ferried to the wine and cheese plates. The wedding party is the driver’s last run before he can go home, already over an hour late, and Sam wonders whether seeing this side of a wedding every day makes the man love weddings or hate them.Read more